


The Adventures of TinTin

by lessthanpure



Category: Adventures of Tintin (2011)
Genre: F/M, Genderswap, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, always a girl tintin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 18:32:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13393761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lessthanpure/pseuds/lessthanpure
Summary: A retelling of the movie with a twist= Tintin's a girl.





	The Adventures of TinTin

“Look at that, Snowy,” TinTin whispers in awe as she catches the reflection. She stands and examines the model ship behind her.

“Good eye there, miss,” the man manning the stall says. 

“Never know what you’ll find on market day,” she smiles at him. She circles the case, whistling softly. “How much?”

“Two quid.”

TinTin fingers the coins in her pocket. “I’ll give you a pound.”

“Sold.”

TinTin tosses the coin over and picks up the ship. She examines it from all angles, smiling softly. 

“How much for the ship,” a man comes over, out of breath. 

“Hmm,” she hums inquisitively. 

“How much for the ship?”

“I only just bought it, sir,” she says. “It’s pretty, ain’t it?”

“I’ll give you double what you paid.”

“Double,” the shopkeep exclaims. 

“Why are you so interested in The Unicorn,” TinTin asks, having read the name when she was looking at it before she bought it. 

“It’ll bring you nothing but trouble,” the man shakes his head.

“Trouble might as well be my middle name,” she grins. “Come on, Snowy.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” the man backs away, disappearing back into the crowd. 

“How much for the ship,” another man, finely dressed, asks. 

“If I had known there would be this must interest in it, I wouldn’t have sold it,” the shopkeep grumbles. “You gotta talk to her to buy it.”

“Name your price, young lady.”

While the shopkeep squawks behind her, TinTin narrows her eyes at the man. “What for?”

“Name’s Sakharine. I recently purchased Marlinspike Hall,” he says. “If you won’t sell it for money, what about sentimentality? I’ll give the ship back to the family.”

TinTin strokes her finger along the unicorn figurehead. “Like I told the last gentleman. It’s not for sale. Sorry. Good day. Come along, Snowy,” TinTin says, walking away, the dog following behind. 

 

“You broke it for a cat,” TinTin scolds the dog, setting the ship on the side table once more. She prods at the broken mast, examining it. “Hmmm. Seems simple enough to fix. Could bring it to Haverford, he makes all those model ships. Owes me a favor. Never thought I’d have to call it in.” She sighs. “Could be worse,” she looks down at her dog. “It could always be worse.”

 

“It’s worse,” TinTin sighs, seeing her ransacked apartment. “Things are so easily lost,” she quotes the odd butler. Snowy whines and paws at the underside of the side table where her ship once sat. She moves the thing and finds a silver tube under it. “Could this be what he was talking about,” she muses, putting it under the light and twisting it open, extending her hand for the magnifying glass Snowy willingly drops into her palm. She reads the lines of the poem out loud, committing them to memory. 

 

“Package for a Miss Tin…. Tin,” a man reads, after that damned pickpocket takes her wallet. With the poem inside. 

TinTin hums. “I didn’t order anything,” she muses, stepping close. She claws at the man’s arm when he puts the rag over her nose and mouth. 

“Because you’re the package, pretty one,” he says into her ear before she passes out. 

 

She comes to in a cage. She feels the floor shifting under her. A ship. She opens her eyes, blinking against the light. “You’re awake,” a familiar voice says. She shakes her head, and the man comes into the light. 

“Mr. Sakharine,” she greets, testing the ropes binding her wrists. “First you ransack my home, then you gun down a man in front of my apartment, and now you kidnap me. Someone really wants that model ship. Well, as I told you at the estate, someone stole it from me.”

“What I want is not the ship. I want what was in the mast.”

“A small silver tube?”

“Yes,” he smiles. 

“With a poem inside?”

“Yes!”

“Written in Olde English?”

“Yes, yes!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She smiles sweetly. Behind Sakharine, she hears a muffled snicker. Sakharine ignores it, extend extending his cane to a man next to him, who grips it. Sakharine unsheathes the blade hidden within and holds the tip under TinTin’s chin. 

“Miss TinTin. I will get that scroll. One that looks an awful lot like this,” he dangles a scroll in front of her eyes, pulling it away quickly. He sheathes the blade once more and walks out. 

 

The Captain is a drunk. Of course. Didn’t even bother to check the door. They manage to get into a lifeboat after a gun battle, and down into the sea they go. 

 

The Captain is an idiot. But he remembered the story. At least the first part of it. At least she got part of the story. The last thing she thinks before she passes out is how great the rest of it would have been.

 

She wakes in an unfamiliar place. Snowy noses her hand, and she sits up, groaning. “Ah, you’re awake, miss,” a woman says, stepping close. 

“Where am I?”

“Safe. You and your friend.” TinTin downs three glasses of water and gets up, getting into her laundered clothes. 

The man who rescued her is fetched. “Sir. Thank you. You saved our lives.”

The man tips his head at her. “Of course, miss,” he trails off.

“TinTin.”

“Miss TinTin. Your friend is in worse shape than you, I’m afraid.”

TinTin frowns as his condition is listed off. “He was a drunk, you see. The desert dried him completely out,” she explains as they go into his room. “Captain,” she sighs in relief, seeing him sat up in bed with a glass of water in his hand. 

“Who are you,” he asks, cocking his head. 

“It’s TinTin. Remember? We got off your ship and flew a plane into the desert,” she recounts. 

“Flew? No, no. I’m a seafaring man myself. Won’t fly if I can help it. I get terrible air sickness.”

“I remember,” TinTin grimaces. 

 

Snowy, the damned dog, gets the Captain drunk again. “Snowy, you wonderful dog, he’s drunk again,” TinTin exclaims as the Captain roars around. She listens to the rest of the story eagerly. “Oh, Captain, I could kiss you,” she crows. The Captain seizes her face and drags her forward, doing just that. Well. Apart from the alcohol she can taste on his tongue, that was…nice. “It was just an expression, Captain,” she murmurs, pulling away. 

“Call me Archie,” he replies, cheeks red. She nods, getting out of the hay cart.

 

They stay in a private tent before moving on. “TinTin,” the Capt- Archie whispers.

She hums. “Can’t sleep, Archie?”

“Not a wink,” he admits. She rolls onto her side, smiling at him as he strikes a match and lights a lantern. 

“Me neither. Too excited.” She sighs, rolling onto her back. “Another adventure. Right, Snowy,” she asks, turning her head to find her dog sound asleep. She chuckles and turns her head to talk to Archie again when his mouth is on hers again, softer this time. More controled. She gasps, and he kisses her deeper. She clutches the back of his head, and he moans softly. 

“You believe in me,” Archie whispers in admiration, and she whimpers, nodding. He drops a kiss onto her neck, the scratch of his beard making her shiver. “In me. Archibald Haddock.”

“Uh-huh,” she mumbles, kissing him again. He unzips her sleeping bag, opening it and getting in. He thrusts against her, and she moans, long and low.

“Blistering barnacles, you make pretty noises,” he mutters, hands going to her shirt. He looks up at her, and she nods. He groans softly and unbuttons her shirt, hands going to her pants before pausing. 

“Yes, yes, damn you.”

He shucks them off, kissing down the center of her body. She arches when he gets between her thighs. She keens, loudly. He takes his mouth off of her, grinning slyly up at her. “Quiet, now. You wouldn’t want anyone to come in here, would you,” he asks. She remembers they’re in a tent. With people just outside. She shoves her fist in her mouth, smothering her noises. God but he is good with his tongue. He’s not shy, either, and very enthusiastic. And God his beard. He licks around her clit, mouthing and sucking there before lapping at the source of her wetness, shoving his tongue in. She grips his soft hair with her free hand, bucking against him. He growls against her and doubles his efforts, taking his hands off her hips and maneuvering her knees over his shoulders. She makes a strangled whine, and Archie chuckles, slowing down his tongue. She bucks against him, whimpering. So close, she’s so damn close. Archie presses a finger into her, and she nearly bites through her own finger. 

“Archie, Archie,” she whispers, muffled. Archie groans softly, pressing another finger inside the first and curling them. She sobs, rolling her hips down. Another finger, pressed tight. 

“So wet for me,” Archie growls. Archie removes his fingers, ignoring her whine, and licks her in one broad stroke. Tintin growls, hooking her right knee behind his neck and yanking him forward. He looks up at her and shoves his tongue in her in one smooth twist.

She comes with an arch of her back and whimpering his name into her fist. He pulls back, shrugging her boneless legs off his shoulders and swiping the back of his hand against his mouth. “God, God, can I,” he asks, and she nods. He pushes down his pants and lines himself up, pushing in. She bites her lip, hard enough to taste blood. It’s good, so good. She’s so wet and open that it doesn’t hurt a bit. “Easy, easy girl,” he murmurs, capturing her lips in a kiss, licking the blood off her tongue. He pulls her legs around his waist, and she hooks her ankles together. “Good girl,” he growls, and she shivers. He’s just as good with his cock as he his with his tongue. He strokes long and deep and his hand sets to ribbing at her clit in smooth circles. Her hands tug at his hair, licking into his mouth. He tastes of her, and alcohol, too. She pulls back. 

“Are you drunk,” she asks, stilling. Archie blinks slowly. 

“No.” She searches his eyes, nodding. 

“Ok.” 

He thrusts deep and grinds in, and she buries her face in his shirt, biting at his collar. She bunches the fabric in her teeth, smothering her noises. “When we get back,” he growls, rocking into her. “I will lay you out and really make you scream my name.”

“Archie,” she whines. 

“Yeah, Tintin, yeah,” he grunts, and his thumb strokes her clit just as he thrusts deep, and she comes around him. He holds himself still, gritting his teeth. When she comes down, panting, he starts up again. 

“Archie,” Tintin gasps. 

“TinTin.”

Archie licks at where her flush spreads down her chest. She moans when he thrusts deep. She gets a mischievious glint in her eye, and before Archie can question her, she latches onto the join of his neck and shoulder, worrying the skin with her teeth.

“Thundering typhoons,” Archie gasps. He gets her to come again around him, following her. He collapses on top of her, and Tintin moves him to a more comfy position. She strokes at his back, panting. She soothes her hand through his hair, biting gently at his neck. Archie grumbles contentedly, rolling onto his side and bring her with him. He pulls up his pants with one hand, curling the other around Tintin’s waist and bringing her in close. She rests her head on his chest, closing her eyes and falling asleep. Archie fallows with a smile.

 

“And there was a bottle of alcohol,” Haddock says, and Tin Tin shoves at his shoulder. 

“There always is.”

“No, not like that-“

She smacks him across the face. “I can smell it on you,” she growls. 

Haddock’s eyes widen, looking past her. “TinTin,” he shouts, and then pain explodes across the back of her head.

 

TinTin comes to in a strange room. With a headache. She groans, sitting up. She looks around. Snowy is nowhere to be found. She takes stock. She’s drenched to the bone, in seawater from the smell. There are nice clean clothes that look like they’d fit her and a big white towel. She looks to the side- behind a screen, she can see part of a tub. When she gets up to investigate, she spots a showerhead that’s attached to the ceiling. “Neat,” she says. She sets up the shower to hot and strips down, washing herself. She washes her hair thoroughly, sighing under the hot water. Reluctantly, she steps out and dries herself. She unfurls the new clothes- a simple blue dress. She steps into it and puts on the matching shoes. 

TinTin goes to the door and opens it, stepping out. She seems to be in a large hotel room. “Hello,” she calls out.

“Miss TinTin,” a familiar voice says, and TinTin twists around to see Sakharine stepping out of a door, the crew member with a hat and blue sweater beside him with a gun trained on her. “How nice of you to join us. Please, sit,” he gestures at a long table. His falcon is perched on a stand next to the head chair. TinTin glances at the gun and walks, looking all around. They seem to be alone. She goes to settle in a chair on the other side of the table from Sakharine, but the man clicks his tongue. “How are we to speak with you all the way over there,” he asks, settling into the head chair. He gestures to the seat to his left. Her back will be to the wall of windows. TinTin grits her teeth and obeys. “There we are. That wasn’t so difficult, was it,” Sakharine smiles as sweetly as his name. He glances at the crewman, who whistles sharply. A door opens, and a cart is pushed in by another crewman, heavy with food. He puts the dishes on the table, and Sakharine waits until he leaves before he takes TinTin’s plate and loads it with fruit. 

“What do you want,” TinTin asks, eyes hard. Sakharine chuckles, eyes not leaving his task. He sets the plate back in front of her and steeples his fingers, looking over them at her. 

“You, my dear.”

“What about me?”

“My dear girl. You’re clever, tenacious, beautiful. What else could a man want,” he asks, reaching out a hand. TinTin seizes his wrist and glares. 

“None of that,” the crewman barks. Sakharine pulls his wrist away when TinTin lets go reluctantly. 

“Like I said. Tenacious.” He fills his own plate and tucks a napkin under his chin, cutting delicately into the fruit. “Eat up, TinTin.”

“I’m not hungry,” TinTin lies. The fruit looks so good. Her stomach makes a noise, betraying her. Sakharine chuckles. 

“Are you sure?”

“You’ve knocked me out twice and tried to kill me more times than I care to count. What makes me so sure that the food isn’t poisoned?”

Sakharine pulls her food to him and cuts it up. “Choose which ones I eat.”

TinTin makes him eat a bit of each fruit and grumbles when he pushes it back with seemingly no ill effects. She tucks in. 

“Just so you know,” TinTin says, in the midst of eating an orange. “I’ll never work with you.” She pops a segment into her mouth and chews. 

Sakharine frowns. “Are you sure, TinTin?”

“Quite sure, Sakharine.”

Sakharine looks at his henchman. “Mr. Allan, I do believe it’s time we show our hand.”

Allan whistles again, this time longer and lower. A door is thrown open, startling TinTin, and Archie is shoved in, bound and gagged. Snowy is pushed in, as well, inside a crate. TinTin’s eyes go wide and she stands. “Archie!”

“My, my. First name,” Sakharine grins. 

“You son of a bitch!”

“Ah, ah. Language,” Saccharine admonishes, picking up his napkin and delicately wiping his mouth, folding the cloth and putting it on the table. “Now. Come here, dear,” he says, and TinTin swallows, obeying. “Here,” he says, pulling her into his lap. Archie growls and protests behind the rag tied in his mouth. Sakharine strokes his hand along TinTin’s spine, and TinTin snarls, tensing. “Now,” he puts his lips close to TinTin’s ear. “My dear girl. Here it all is. Stay here, with me, and find the treasure, or your Captain dies.” TinTin sees a crewman cock a gun and level it at Archie’s head. Archie thrashes, shaking his head violently. 

“Why,” TinTin grits out. “Why are you doing this,” she asks. Sakharine brushes her hair behind her ear and chuckles into it. 

“Why, my dear TinTin? Why not?”

“God,” she screws her eyes shut. “Fine, fine, you villain!”

“Say it, dear.”

TinTin takes a deep breath. “I’ll work with you,” she whispers. 

“You’ll work with who,” Sakharine prods. TinTin twists her head back and captures Sakharine’s lips in a kiss, startling the man. When he kisses back,She grabs his cane and swings it, knocking it into his head and forcing him to let go of her. She hits it against the wrist of the man holding the gun on Archie, and unlocks Snowy’s cage. Snowy leaps out, and TinTin uses the blade to cut Archie’s bonds. She drags him up and into the room she was in before, slamming the door shut just as Snowy’s tail crosses the threshold, hearing the falcon’s claws skitter against the wood. 

Archie drags a dresser over to bar the door. TinTin gathers her clothes together and looks around. They have a balcony, and TinTin goes onto it, looking down. They’re high up, but there’s a balcony under them. “Hope you’re not afraid of heights, Captain,” she says, swinging her leg up and over the balcony, dangling herself down and dropping athletically. She extends her arms upwards, and Archie drops Snowy into her hands. She puts him on the balcony and helps Archie down. They sprint for the door, getting down the steps and out the front door. She leads them to the dock.

 

“What’s the plan,” Haddock asks, as TinTin is still soothing Snowy. 

“There is no plan.”

“Of course there’s a plan, you always have a plan!”

“Not this time,” TinTin snaps. “Don’t you see? We lost. End of story. Sakharine has the scrolls, all three. We failed.”

“There are plenty of others who’ll call you a failure. A loser. A hopeless souse!” He pushes her back with every insult. She falls into her chair. “But don’t you ever say it of yourself.” He sighs. “You send out the wrong signal, that’s what people pick up.” Wrong signal? WRONG SIGNAL! 

TinTin gets up, shouldering past Haddock, tuning out the rest of his words. “That’s it! I sent a message from their ship! I know their frequency!”

“How does that help us?”

“If I can get that frequency to Interpol, they can track it,” TinTin explains, turning to face him. “We’ll know whatever port they pull into!”

Haddock looks past her. “And beat them there,” he points.

TinTin looks. There’s an aquatic plane. 

 

“ARCHIE,” TinTin screams, watching the crane fall. She covers her mouth and sobs. She watches Archie get up from the ship and takes off.

 

“It’s all you’ve got left, isn’t it,” Sakharine asks Archie. TinTin swoops in and takes the papers. 

“No. He’s got me.”

 

“Latitude and longitude. That’s it! We’ve found the treasure,” Archie yells, sweeping TinTin off her feet and spinning her around while she clutches the papers tight. He puts her on her feet and looks into her face, grinning wide. TinTin leans forward and kisses him.

 

“The estate,” TinTin asks, standing up from her seat.

 

“How’s your thirst for adventure, Captain,” TinTin asks, extending the map. 

“Unquenchable, TinTin.” They grin. 

“Of course, we’ll have to get ready. And I’d like to get checked out by a doctor,” TinTin mentions.

“Why, are you sick,” Haddock asks.

TinTin colors. “It’s a ah, feminine thing.”

“Oh, your period,” Archie says flippantly. “Go on then.”

 

TinTin takes a deep breath. “Treasure hunting will have to wait,” she says. 

“Why,” Archie asks, helping Nestor clean the house and air it out. “How long?”

“Oh, I’d say about nine months. At the very least. Probably more like a year.”

“Nine months? Why nine months, are you pregnant,” he laughs. TinTin bites her lip. Archie stills and turns to face her. “TinTin?”

TinTin looks at the floor and nods. Archie takes a deep breath. “It’s ok, Archie, if you don’t want it, then-“

Archie cuts her off with a kiss. “We’ll have to get married, then,” he presses foreheads with her. “And you’ll have to move in. Not like we don’t have the space,” he chuckles.

“Archie?”

Archie grins. “How about we start a new adventure, TinTin?”


End file.
